Hats
by crowfliesmyass
Summary: After Lee died, all Clementine wanted to do was get away from everything and everyone she once knew. Stay out of the city, right? Well nobody said anything about the country side. Carl/Clem
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys!**

**This is a story about Clementine from TWD Telltale video games and Carl from TWD tv series. **

**It's just something I had on my computer. Nothing major. **

**It starts out as being a one-shot. If it gets a decent amount of hits, I'll consider posting more. **

**Thanks. **

* * *

"Find Christa and Omid. Stay out of the cities and keep that hair short."

His words replayed inside her head over and over again.

_Find Christa and Omid. _

Clementine didn't look back. Instead she just continued to run. She wasn't planning on looking for anybody. _Not Kenny, not Ben and most certainly not Christa and Omid. _Not without Lee at least. She wiped her face with the back of her pink Brooklyn hoodie's sleeve and ran even faster. As fast as her legs could carry her.

Once she was out of the city, she stopped to catch her breath. There was a bench nearby so she sat down and took her handgun out of her hoodie pocket. Just as Lee taught her, she popped out the clip to see how many rounds she had left. There wasn't much, but it had to do. Her head shot up as soon as she heard someone call out her name. There were two figures in the distance, waving their arms about.

She could immediately identify the couple as Christa and Omid because of the difference in height. Clem stood up and back away before starting to sprint in the other direction.

"CLEM!" they yelled after her. But she didn't look back.

…

Dark rings.

There were dark rings around her coffee brown eyes. Her curls flopped over her face as she looked at herself in the dirty mirror. Despite what Lee told her about a year ago, she hadn't cut her hair in a long time. It was just past her shoulders when up in a ponytail. She liked it like that. She looked down at her broken blue jeans and new black combat boots she just found. Luckily, they fitted her feet. She was wearing her signature baseball cap – the very one her father gave her before him and her mother left for Savannah. She didn't want to look at herself any longer and wiped her reflection away by opening the cabinet it hung on. She searched for something to take – _anything._ Bandages, medicine, ointment. All she found was a half-full box of Band-Aids, but that was more than enough. She shoved it into her backpack, along with the can-opener she found and the green flashlight.

Since Clementine had fortified the house, she decided to spend the night there. After covering the windows with dark things she found in and around the house, she put on her gas lamp and had two pieces of beef-jerkey. _Jerkey – _Lee's favorite.

She erased her thoughts almost immediately and took off her cap, before placing it on the coffee table. She dimmed the light and sunk into the dusty, leather couch, quickly drifting off.

…

"'Ey, over 'ere!"

Clem's eyes flashed open and in a second, her hat was back on her head and her handgun was in her hands. She jumped behind the couch and waited.

"Place looks secure," someone said. _A boy. _She waited for him so say something more, but instead, she heard the doorknob twist and turn.

"Carl!" another voice hissed. _The hell is Carl and what is he doing? _Without thinking, Clem stood up from where she was hiding and pointed her gun at the mysterious Carl. She was slightly surprised when she saw him; judging from the pitch of his voice, she thought he would be about 16 or 17, but he only looked about 15. He was wearing a sheriff's hat and his brown hair touched his collar and sheltered his eyes, although his blue eyes could be seen beneath the barrier or hair. His skin was pale, making his freckles visible. Clem tightened the grip on her handgun as she studied the boy some more. He was wearing black jeans and a grey Spider-Man t-shirt. She looked at his face and noticed the confusion and slight fear. Before she knew it, she was staring into the barrel of his handgun, as he was doing to hers. They stayed like that for a while, neither of them saying anything or shooting, until a man barged into the house, too.

He had messy brown hair that covered his eyes, too. He was wearing a black leather vest and was armed with a crossbow. He looked dirty, but not gross. When he saw what was going on, his eyes went from Carl to Clem and from Clem to Carl until he stepped forward. "I'd put that gun down if I were you. Don't do anythin' stupid, kid," he told her. She looked at Carl, then back at him and lowered her gun. _She knew that she didn't stand a chance._ The man looked at Carl and sighed irritably. "An' you. If you're gon' come with me on runs, you best start using them damn ears or you're gon' get us both killed." Carl looked at him, "You best lower that damn gun, too." Carl rolled his eyes and obeyed. Daryl turned around and started rummaging through things that were in the house. "So he _can_ follow instructions," he mumbled to himself as he swung his crossbow over his shoulder. Then something clicked in his head and he looked at Clem again. "Where're your folks? They around 'ere?"

Clem let out a small humorless laugh. "Where are anyone's parents anymore?" she asked rhetorically. Daryl bowed his head, realizing that her parents were both dead. He nodded once respectfully. "You guys aren't hunters, right?"

The man looked at Carl before looking back at her. "I hunt, but I ain't gonna hurtcha, unless you do somethin' stupid, I guess. Name's Daryl, the deaf kid's Carl," he introduced himself. Clem nodded slowly, still very cautious.

"He's not really _deaf_, right?" she asked the man and glared at Carl.

Daryl snorted. "Nothin's impossible," he joked and playfully nudged Carl, "but no. He ain't deaf."

"Who the hell are you?" Carl blurted. Daryl looked at him, then back at Clementine, waiting for an answer.

She hesitated. _Could she trust them? _"What's it to you?" she asked him, her eyes narrowed, too.

"Well we told you our names," he retorted rather rudely.

Clem stepped forward with a shrug. "I didn't ask you to. _I asked you if you were hunters_."

Carl looked at her as though he couldn't believe the cheek. He holstered his handgun and threw his hands up in defeat as he turned around to leave. "Whatever. Daryl, let's quit this place," he muttered irritably and walked out. Just then, he was tackled to the ground by a rotten corpse. _A walker. _Clem and Daryl reacted at the same time, but Clementine was faster. She grabbed a pillow from the couch and made her way towards Carl and the walker. She tackled the walker down and after struggling, was able to press the pillow against the barrel of her handgun and shoot the walker silently, just as Lee taught her. She let out a small sigh of relief when its lifeless body stopped resisting. She got off the walker and stood up, looking at Carl to see if he was okay.

He was sitting down, catching his breath with a shocked look on his face. She looked at Daryl, who looked rather surprised as well. "Who knew, right?" she broke the silence and lightly laughed at herself. Carl and Daryl looked at each other and shrugged. She walked over to the couch and grabbed her backpack.

"My name is Clementine," she finally told them as she walked to the door, before she walked out, she looked back at them and nodded, "I'd say 'see you later'," she said, then glared at Carl, "but hopefully I won't."


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay so I thought about this long and hard. **

**Eh, what the hell, right? Might as well post another chapter since I have like the first three chapters on my computer. **

**But don't expect weekly updates. This story is the least of my worries right now. I'll see how well it goes and obviously if it gets 'famous' or whatever, I'll think about making it a priority. **

**Anyway, I got a couple of reviews praising my portrayal of Daryl, or whatever you wanna call it. Thank you for that. I really tried my best and it feels good knowing that my attempt was somewhat successful. **

**Also, just so we're clear, in this story Clem is about 15 and so is Carl. I know it's WAY off but in the comics, Carl's only like 11 or something and in the TV series by season 4, he's about 15. Clem on the other hand is also about 11 or so in the latest season of the Telltale series, so I thought I might as well do the same with her as they've done with Carl. By the way, if I get any facts about Clem wrong, please forgive me as I've only played the first season. (The one with Lee and Carly and them). **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

Clementine was running on fumes of adrenaline as she sprinted through the thick woods. She could only hear the sound of her heavy panting and her feet stepping on the twigs and leaves beneath her body. Every once in a while, she'd look back to see if the walker had caught up yet. She'd run out of bullets and the first thing that came to mind was running, even though she had no idea where she was running to. While she looked back, she didn't see the root of one the trees sticking out and her foot got hooked, sending her rolling down the short hill. Even though it hurt, she didn't have time to cry about it. She got up instantly, grabbing her hat that had fallen off and continued running.

She looked back again and as she turned to face the front, she bumped into something hard and fell down on her back. She looked up to see what she had hit and saw a familiar face looking down at her confusedly. _It had been a week since she met him. _Before either of them could say anything, the walker that was pursuing Clem finally showed up. Daryl looked down at her and noticed how afraid she looked. She crawled back until her back touched his legs and without hesitation, he shot the walker down. Daryl stepped back and helped her up.

"'Ey, kid. Long time no see," he joked. "You alright?"

She nodded and dusted herself off. "I've been better…thanks." He nodded. Clem rolled up her jeans and just as she imagined, saw the 3-inch cut on her leg that she got from the fall. She sighed and went through her backpack, looking for something to stop the bleeding. She found the half a bottle of disinfectant and a rag. Daryl watched as she cleaned herself up and stood up again. "So…what brings you here?" she asked, lightly swaying from left to right.

Daryl retrieved his arrow from the dead walker and smirked. "Dunno. Guess I'm 'ere to hunt. How 'bout you?" he asked her.

She snorted and folded her arms. "Oh you know; the occasional game of tag. Guess he didn't know how to play," she joked and looked at the walker. There was a moment of silence while Daryl reloaded his crossbow. Clementine kicked the dirt around with the tip of her boot. Then she picked up her backpack and sighed. "Well, it was nice catching up. How about coffee sometime?" she said and turned around to leave again.

"Kid," Daryl called out after her. She stopped and looked back, fiddling with the strap of her backpack. "Where the hell're you goin'?"

She scrunched up her face, thinking about it. She shrugged. "Wherever, I guess. I kinda just walk – run. I'm basically a human walker. Except I don't like eating human."

"You always joke around?"

She shrugged again. "Is that a bad thing?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Nah."

She pressed her lips together and turned to walk again. "Wait!" he called out. She turned around again and looked at him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Come," he breathed out, "come with me. There's a group nearby. We got food, water…hell, we even got beds. We got kids and babies, too. I bet you'll fit right in," he offered. He normally didn't like inviting people to join them, but she was just a kid. Plus, she was all by herself.

A small smile formed on her lips as she considered the offer. She didn't want to fool herself. What if they were bad? What if he was lying? But then she thought about Carl and realized that he was a kid and belonged to this group. She preferred traveling on her own, but wondered how it would be to permanently live somewhere with a whole group of people. Then she thought about the last time she had a decent meal and comfortable place to sleep. And when was the last time she had a friend – or at least someone to talk to. Sure, it would take a long time to completely trust them, but it was worth the shot. Daryl seemed like a decent guy, anyway.

She gulped and turned around completely, crossing her arms once more. "I'm listening…" she said and beckoned him to continue.

He sighed. "Look, kid. You're either in, or you ain't. What's it gon' be?" he asked impatiently.

"How do I know I can trust you?" she asked suspiciously,

He took a deep breath and sighed on the exhale. _She had a point._ "Carl's a kid, too. 'member him? The deaf kid? If we were hunters or anythin', we wouldn't have kids."

She threw her hands up in defeat. He had a point. "Alright," she agreed, "but my names not 'kid'. It's _Clementine._"

He snorted. "Whatever," he mumbled, "now you gotta stay 'ere while I go round up them squirrels," he instructed, and brushed past her.

She looked at him, eyes widened. _"Squirrel?" _she asked in disgust. He nodded and continued walking, leaving Clem all by herself.

…

Clementine had never seen an actual prison before. She saw it in cartoons and on TV, but that was it. She also remembered her mother telling her that it a 'bad place' for 'bad people'. The place was huge. It was surrounded by high fences and there were guard towers all along them. There was a large field in the front and from she could see, they were growing crops and housing farm animals. Sure enough, there were kids happily running around and laughing, as if there wasn't a world of walking dead people surrounding them.

She watched with great fascination as the car stopped in front of a big, orange makeshift gate. Daryl stuck his head out the window and whistled, obviously signaling whoever was inside to open up for them. Daryl drummed on the dashboard with his fingers until the scraping sound of the gates opening indicated that he could go inside. Daryl drove right up to the actual prison building, where a few people were hanging around. When Daryl stopped, she suddenly overwhelmed with butterflies. She sat up and looked around, observing her new home.

Daryl looked at her and noticed how nervous she was. "C'mon. They ain't gonna bite ya," he assured her and got out of the car. She followed him immediately, keeping her head down and not making eye contact. Her fingers played with each other and became sweatier. Daryl was talking to a man with curly hair. He was wearing a flannel shirt with black jeans and cowboy-styled boots. His bearded face seemed familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it. There was also a woman with short grayish hair and a blond girl holding a baby. Daryl called her over and stepped back, leaving her to introduce herself.

"Hi," she said and pressed her lips together as she waved briefly. "I'm Clementine."

The man smiled and nodded. "Welcome to the prison, _Clementine_. You already know Daryl and Carl, I believe." She nodded. "Well, I'm Rick – Carl's dad and that over there is Judith, my daughter." _That's where he was from. Carl looked just like his father._

She looked at the gray-haired woman. "Hello. Name's Carol," she informed her sincerely. Clem smiled and looked down shyly. Next up was the blond chick, who was holding Judith.

"I'm Beth," she said, grinning and shifted the baby to her other hip. Clem waved at them again and turned around, looking at Daryl, waiting for him to break the awkward silence. She beckoned him with her eyes, but he just shrugged, not knowing what to do next either.

"How 'bout we get you settled in, huh?" Carol offered, obviously sensing the insecurity. Clementine looked at Daryl once again for some kind of approval, since he was the only one she really knew. She didn't want to go off with some stranger without him.

"Go on, kid," Daryl whispered. Clem frowned, but nodded and turned around. If Daryl trusted this lady, she couldn't possibly be _that _bad. Clementine flashed a small smile at the woman, who smiled back at her. Carol motioned for Clem to follow and she obeyed.

"This is Cellblock C – where you'll be staying, since you obviously don't want to be too far away from Daryl. Rick, Beth, Carl and I are right in here too, so if you ever need anything, you know where to come," she announced as they walked into the building. Clem's eyes scanned the cellblock; it was dark and empty, but somehow it felt light and warm. There were drawings of people, flowers and animals on the walls, presumably by the kids. The ceiling was high and the windows were thin and long _and barred. _Each of the cells had sheets hanging in the doorway, providing privacy. Carol led her to an empty one next to Beth's cell. When Clementine walked into the cell, she looked around and took off her backpack. "You can put your clothes on the top bunk. Should I ask Daryl to bring your bags up?" Carol asked.

_What is this? A hotel? _Clem shrugged. "This is all I got," she admitted and cocked her head towards her backpack.

Carol frowned. "How old are you exactly?" she asked.

"15. Why?"

"I think I know where to get some clothes for you, but first, let's get you some bedding. Can't have you sleepin' on these dirty ol' things," she insisted. "Wait here."

She nodded and waited for the woman to return. During this time, she inspected the cell some more. She sat down on the mattress to feel it and surprisingly, it was soft and bouncy. She pulled her backpack up onto the bed and went through her things. All she had in her bag was a hoodie, a drawing notebook and pencils, Band-Aids, jerkey and her handgun. It wasn't much, but it seemed to do the trick for the past few years. She also had some photographs; one of Lee and one of her parents. She never went anywhere without her photos. She looked at the photos and lightly stroked the glossy paper with her finger.

Then Carol came back and Clem quickly shoved the pictures back into her backpack. "Oh," she said and looked at all the bedding Carol was holding. "T-Thanks. Lemme just pack up…" her sentence drifted off as she shoved everything back into her backpack and stood up. She helped Carol place a clean sheet on the mattress and put some pillowcases on the pillows. Carol put them on her bed neatly and threw a blanket and a duvet on the bed. "Looks…comfy," Clem commented.

Carol smiled proudly. "And now for the clothes," she moved on and looked at the backpack. "I'm not sure what you got back there, but feel free to decorate this cell however you want – pictures, drawings, go crazy! I'll be back."

Clem watched her leave and took her drawing notebook out. She thought about ripping her drawings out and putting them on the wall along with her photos, but decided to rather get more comfortable with everyone before making herself at home. She left her drawing pad on her bed and decided to stroll through the cellblock for interest's sake.

"Hello?" a voice called out from behind. It was deep – presumably a guy's. She spun around to see who it was and was taken aback to see a tall young man with brown curly hair. He was wearing dark blue jeans, a dark red t-shirt and Vans. "Haven't seen you around. Must be the new chick," he suggested and held his hand out. Clementine looked at it before shaking it. It was warm and soft.

She raised an eyebrow. "Yeah…name's Clementine. You can call me Clem. You are…?" she asked him.

"Peter. Peter Armstrong. Pleasure to meet you, _Clem_," he said cheerfully. She smiled and nodded once. With that, he said that he'd see her around and went off to do heaven knows what. She watched him walk away. There was something strange about him, but she couldn't quite think of it. She shrugged it off and continued walking around until she came across another familiar face. _Carl._

"Look who it is; the sheriff boy!" she announced and leaned against the doorway of his room. The sheet in his doorway was pulled back, so she figured that he didn't mind company. He was sitting on his bed, cross-legged and reading an 'Avengers' comic book.

His head shot up at the sound of her voice and he scrunched up his face in apparent disgust. "What are _you _doing here?" he spat rudely.

She overlooked his aggressiveness and shrugged. "Didn't you hear? I moved in down the road. Met your dad, your sister…they're nice. What the hell happened to you?" she asked sarcastically.

He narrowed his blue eyes. "Har Har," he retorted humorlessly, "who said I wasn't nice? Peter? Lizzie?" he asked, putting his comic book down and standing up.

"Why not prove me wrong? Do something nice, and your name'll be restored. But for now, you're pretty much an asshole."

"Whatever," he muttered and brushed past her. Her eyes followed him. "C'mon."

He beckoned her to follow him. She raised a brow. "Where are we going?" she asked, following him anyway.

He snorted. "I got shit to do and since you live here now, you have to help."

She laughed slightly at his cockiness. "'xcuse me? I just got here. All I have to do is settle in. Looks like you're on your own, sheriff," she shrugged.

"Fine," he sighed irritably. "How about I help you 'settle in'?" he offered impatiently, folding his arms.

She smiled. "Are you trying to be _nice?"_ she teased, narrowing her brown eyes. He rolled his eyes, not saying anything. Clem took a deep breath and puckered her eyebrows, shrugging. "Okay. Show me around, cowboy."

He turned around swiftly and began to stroll, dragging his All-Stars on the ground as he moved. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his grey hoodie and his head was bowed. Clementine studied him as he walked. _Why was this boy so cold? What happened to him?_ He must've gone through some kind of traumatic experience.

Perhaps he just had trust issues. But then again, who didn't?

Clem tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and waited for Carl to say something.


End file.
